Juicy Secrets Forbidden Tales of Lesbian Love

By Cassandra Blue

{ This story was originally posted at Lesbian Lolita in November 2006 }

I parked a couple of hundred feet down the road and stepped out of the car in the hot night. I gently closed the car door and stood there in the dark, looking toward the light that stood above the old farmhouse. God, what was I doing? It was crazy. Yes, it was crazy, but it had to be done. I had to see my love before I could go on.

I began walking up the road, slowly at first then faster, and then Molly began barking. Shit, I had forgotten about Molly. She wasn’t just barking either; she was growling and snarling viciously. I got closer to the house as the big old dog came bounding down to me, ready to tear me apart.

“Molly, it’s me,” I said. “It’s Kat.”

Fortunately my scent and the sound of my voice calmed her and her snarls turned to playful and excited whimpers. I knelt down and petted her soft coat and calmed her. She put her paws on my shoulders and licked my face. That was Molly, the snow white collie, old now but still big and beautiful.

“Quiet now, girl,” I told her, standing up and walking up the hill to the house as Molly tagged along close behind. I began to shake a bit, nervous and afraid and excited all at the same time. Sweat dripped from my brow as I stepped around the house to the back door.

I opened the door, silently thanking whoever had been liberal with the oil can on the hinges. I carefully closed the door and stepped cautiously. An old house is an old house and there’s no way to keep the floor from creaking. I had grown up in that house and knew where to step, but you never knew when a new squeak or groan might find its way into the boards.

The hardest part was the stairs, the stairs up to where my angel slept, those old stairs I had sneaked up and down many a time in the middle of the night. I slipped off my hard shoes and started up, stepping to the edges of the stairs. I’d forgotten just how many steps there were; it seemed like forever reaching the top, but I got there with just the slightest groan on the top step.

Her door was at the end, the one opposite my sister’s all the way at the other end. I moved slowly, allowing my toes to touch each board before lowering my full weight. It all seemed so slow and frightening, but well worth it. I turned the knob and entered her room, only allowing myself a glimpse to make sure it was her sleeping on the bed before turning to close the door. Then, taking a breath, I turned and looked.

Words cannot express what I felt looking upon my sweet Maggie, my beautiful little girl, my sister’s child. The last time I had seen her she had just turned ten years old. Now she was halfway between eleven and twelve. Time had not marred her. My God, in the soft light of the moon she looked even more beautiful than before.

She was on her side, wearing a very small nightgown, her slender legs stretched out with the feet straight and the little toes curled. I made my way to the small lamp on the bedside table. I turned the switch and looked at her again in the light. It only got better. She had a golden tan, not the sort of tan you get stretched out and covered with lotion, but the kind you get running and playing in the summer sun, bathing in Miller’s stream, lying in the grass and looking up at the shapes in the clouds.

I knelt down at the edge of the bed and looked into her round face. I reached over, allowing my fingers to brush the soft little hairs above her brow. Her hair was light brown but lightened by the sun so that some strands shimmered like gold. I began to let my fingers move closer to her skin to slowly caress my girl awake. I stroked her round forehead and then let the back of my hand caress her upper cheek. Her breathing changed, she yawned, and then, with all of the drama that I had dreamed of, opened her eyes and looked at me.

“Aunty K-,” she began to squeal, but I covered her mouth and shushed her.

“Hello, my angel,” I said, shedding tears that I could not – and did not try to – control. In her tight embrace, I sobbed quietly at her shoulder. “Oh, I love you so much, my sweet Maggie.”

“I love you, too, Aunt Kat.”

“I had to see you, my dear sweet love,” I told her. “I had to come. I want to take you for a ride. You see, I knew that your mom wouldn’t let me in the door, Maggie, but I had to see you. Will you come and take a ride with me before she wakes up?”

“Oh, yes!” she whispered excitedly. “Let me get dressed and I’ll come with you.”

“Come as you are, sweetie; just as you are.”

I helped her off the bed and I went around and shut off her light. The two of us went out the door together. I will not detail again that long slow journey through the house; I will just say that young Maggie was evidently training herself in the art of sneaking around the old house just as I had. When we got outside, I grinned at her and told her how I used to sneak out at her age. She grinned back as Molly greeted her with an excited bark and she pet the old girl and hushed her.

We walked down the road toward the old car and I opened the door for her. Molly didn’t try to come along; when we got to the car, she turned and headed back to the house. I started up the car and turned it around in the gravel, heading the other way, with my sweet little Maggie snuggled up to my arm.

There was so much to say, so much I had rehearsed on my drive along the endless road to see her, but I was much too overwhelmed to utter a word of it. Maggie, too, remained silent. I wondered if she knew where we were headed. I wondered if she remembered. I wondered…

I had to look for it, that old dirt road that veered off into the trees by Miller’s stream. I slowed the car and peered out through the bug-spattered windshield.

“It’s just up there,” Maggie said, pointing out beyond the headlights and off to the right.

We got up to the turn-off, I pulled off onto the dirt, and I welcomed Maggie onto my lap. She planted her pert round butt on my upper thighs and lay back against me.

“It’s so quiet here,” I said.

“I know,” she said.

“I miss it sometimes,” I sighed.

“I… miss you all the time,” my little girl said, just like that, and she sighed.

“Baby…” I began, but fear stopped me. I was afraid to bring up what had happened between us before, what I had done, what…

“Do you remember what we did?” I blurted out, feeling foolish afterward for asking so anxiously.

“Yes,” she answered with a quiver in her voice. “I… I think about it all the time, Aunt Kat.”

“I just… I’m sorry, but I have to know how you felt… about…”

Maggie sat up and turned to look at me. Her eyes dropped and she took a breath before she looked up at me again.

“Do you ever think about the way I touched you?”

“Yes.”

“And how do you feel about it?”

Maggie maneuvered herself around, turning to straddle my lap, and she looked in my face and placed her hands on my cheeks. There was a soft look in her eyes then, and I was sure my heart was going to beat right out of my chest. Her lips came closer to mine and met them. Her kiss was soft and sweet and lingering. Her touch was so gentle and soft, unlike any touch I had ever felt before. When her lips pulled away, she looked at me tenderly. “I love you, Kat,” she said.

“I asked you how…”

“No,” she said, putting a finger to my lips. “No talking,” she whispered, and she pressed her mouth to mine once again, this time more forcefully. I allowed her to explore my lips, suck at them, rub at them, caress them with her own. I was surprised, taken aback, and a bit frightened by what was happening. For a moment it was as if I was the child and she was the woman, but reality took hold and I gripped her shoulders and pushed her back.

“What’s wrong?” she asked me.

“You don’t have to do this, you know,” I told her, reaching up and running my fingers through her hair. “I want you to, yes, but not if you don’t…”

“I do,” she said, once again putting her finger to my lips. “More than anything. Can we watch the sunrise together, like we used to?”

“Sure, baby.”

“Will you touch me like you did…?”

“Of course, my sweet lover.”

My beautiful niece lifted her arms and I lifted her nightgown, exposing her slender young body almost completely, pulling it off over her head and tossing it aside. Maggie turned around again, lying back against me, her arms out to her sides. She sighed as I began to kiss at her ear and her neck, my hands caressing her arms as she sat very still. The smell of her, the warmth of her, her softness was all intoxicating to me. My kisses moved to her neck and my hands moved to her chest, my fingertips dancing lightly upon her flesh. She began to breathe just a little faster. When I touched her nipples, I felt her legs twitch ever-so-slightly, as if a small spark had been set off between them. I felt the little nipples harden as I rubbed them, and once again her breath seemed to quicken.

I became aware of the light, the beginning of the dawn, its light pale and unobtrusive. One of my hands moved down, the fingertips gliding over the plains of her tummy. Her legs spread further apart as I got closer. I felt the tingle in my loins, a tingle of excited anticipation as I slipped one hand inside her little cotton panties. The car felt so small with her body so closely pressed against me. I felt myself shaking with her as I began to stroke the little hood where the clitoris lived. I felt her every little movement and heard her every sound. Birds may have been singing, the light may have been creeping in, but to me all that existed was my Maggie’s pleasure. Very quickly I reached up and tilted the rear-view mirror so that I could see her face. Her eyes were closed and her lips moved as she breathed. She was trembling. Her hips began to move, as if to grind against my fingers.

For the longest time I touched her like that, watched her in the mirror as the light became stronger while remaining soft and pale. I saw her head move from side to side. Then, quite suddenly, in a fevered sort of frenzy, Maggie lifted her butt off my thighs and jerked down her panties. She lifted one leg so she could pull one foot though them. Then she rested again, drawing my hand in, pressing it firmly to her clitoris, clutching at my other hand, slipping her fingers through mine and squeezing tight.

“Oh…” she whimpered, her breaths becoming gasps. “Oh, please…”

“Yes, my love,” I said. “Let it out. I have you.”

The next thing I knew her thighs came together and her whole body seized. Her breath stopped and she let out a squeal as it hit her, a wonderfully powerful orgasm. Her legs twitched uncontrollably as she let out the most beautiful sounding little cries, soft cries mixed in with her convulsing breaths. It was then that the first ray of sunlight came into the car, and it fell directly upon her sweet face. Bathed in light, she held on. Time seemed to stop there for a moment as the feeling seemed to remain with her, and I continued to press my fingers to her clitoris until I heard her breathing quiet.

“Oh, my love,” I whispered in her ear. I looked up into the rear-view mirror and saw her eyes looking at me. I began to take my hand from between her legs, but she grabbed it and pulled it back.

“Don’t stop,” she said. “Please…”

My sweet Maggie was begging for more. I could not have dreamed of such a reaction; in fact, I had wondered all through my journey if my touches would be welcome at all. There I was, and there she was with me, delightfully and beautifully naked, aroused and excited and searching for another sweet orgasm at the touch of my trembling hand.

“Oh, my little girl,” I said, “I dreamed of doing this so many times.”

“Me, too…” she sighed, her voice soft and breathless. “Oh, please… yes…”

I felt her body quake and quiver and I rubbed her clitoris feverishly. Once again, with a delightful squeal, she found her pleasure. She cried out in release as the second orgasm surged through her in spasms and I struggled to hold onto her as she seemed about to fall off to one side. With a womanly passion, she reached up and grasped my head, turning her own to press her lips to mine in a hungry French kiss.

It had grown very hot in the car, and it was then that my Maggie slipped off my lap and took my hand. She smiled, spreading my fingers out and looking up at me as she kissed them, one by one.

“Did you really think about me touching you when I was gone?” I asked.

“Yeah,” she said. “I mean, just a little in the beginning… but then I started doing it a lot.”

“Did you touch yourself when you thought about it?”

“Hee hee…” Maggie laughed sweetly. “Yes.”

My attention was snapped away just as I was about to kiss my angel. It was a car coming up behind us. It was not just any car. It had lights on top. They were not lit up, but that did not matter. What mattered was that the driver’s side door was opening and the police officer was getting out.

“M-Maggie, you might want to put on your nightgown… quickly.”

The little girl turned to look and grabbed her nightgown. The cop stopped to look at the out-of-state license plate and walked slowly, as big shot cops like to do, the whole John Wayne bit. That gave Maggie plenty of time to put on her little nightgown, but then she plopped herself right on my lap. When the cop got to the window and looked in, her big smile was the first thing he saw.

“Hi, Mister Daley,” she said. I had forgotten what it was like living in small town America, knowing everyone. But I didn’t remember this man, and he didn’t know me. I was sweating bullets, feeling just how hot it had grown in the car, and not feeling very well. I hadn’t eaten for a while, and the stress made me feel weak.

“Hello, Maggie,” the cop said. “How are you?” I kept my head down, but I could feel his eyes on me. “Maybe you can introduce me to your friend.”

“Oh, you mean my Aunt Katherine?” Maggie grinned. “She’s here for a surprise visit. Isn’t that nice?”

“Well… yes,” the officer said. Maggie kept that beautiful grin beaming. It made it difficult for the cop to be anything but friendly. I felt Maggie’s hand take mine. She drew it up under her nightgown and in between her legs where the flesh was still bare. I turned my head slightly and saw her panties lying on the passenger’s side of the front seat. I closed my eyes and swallowed. I wanted to reach over and tuck them somewhere, but my hand was busy doing something else.

“How are you doing this morning, ma’am?” the cop asked me.

“I-I’m very well… officer.”

“You know, this isn’t really an appropriate parking spot, ma’am.”

“Oh, Mister Miller, people are always parking here,” Maggie smiled. I felt a tremble below, where her fingers pressed mine against her swollen little clit. She was on fire down there, but up above she was cool as a cucumber. “Are you trying to give my aunt a hard time?”

“Well… I… um…” the cop was without a comeback. “The point is…”

“Are you bored, Mister Miller?” Maggie asked. “My grandpa says that you guys get bored and you go out and hassle people.”

“Oh, when did he say that, Maggie?”

“When you gave him a ticket for driving too fast. Remember that?”

“Oh,” the cop said, looking down. I sensed that he was embarrassed; I didn’t know why and it didn’t matter. Maggie was winning, the little minx. She was amazing. And the whole time she was charming and outwitting the cop, she was pressing my fingers to her sweet sex. I was reeling.

“Well, ma’am, I am sorry to bother you. Maggie, you have a nice day.”

“I’ll tell my grandpa you said hi,” Maggie said.

The cop walked back to his car, got in, backed out and drove away. My eyes followed him in the rear-view mirror, then caught my Maggie looking at me. She was rocking her hips, riding my hand.

“Little girl,” I said, “you are out of this world. Why would you make me rub on you with the cop standing there?”

“I just like being sneaky; it makes me tingly,” she sighed. “Did you like how I talked to him?”

“Yes, but why did he get all soft when you talked about my dad?”

“He got in big trouble…” she gasped, her lower lip quivering. “My grandpa went to the station and complained about the ticket. He’s friend’s with… the chief.”

My little girl had sweat glistening on her brow, so I wiped it away. I was eager to see my little girl come to another orgasm, but she stopped me, grasping my hand. “It’s hot in here…” she said.

I nodded. “Yes, it is.”

“Maybe we should go for a walk and cool off.  You wanna go down to the stream?”

Oh, the memories, the memories of Miller’s Stream! It was there that I kissed my little lover — really kissed her — for the first time.

We had gone for a walk together, and I had told Maggie the secret about my sexuality, my love of other women. She had never heard of such a thing before, but was clearly delighted by the idea of girls loving girls.

That’s when I truly went for broke, and confessed the deep, dark secret that no one else knew about me… my sexual desire for young girls. I told her of the excitement, the fierce craving I felt for adolescent cuties that made me tremble inside. How badly I wanted to kiss them, touch their baby-soft skin, guide them gently into the world of love. I guess my secret had been bottled up inside me for far too long, because I told Maggie far more than I had intended.

She never seemed disturbed by my confessions, though. Her hand remained in mine as we walked together, her questions honestly curious. Then she halted mid-stride, gazed up at me and asked the question that changed everything between us.

“Aunt Kat,” she began hesitantly, “do you… have you ever, um, felt that way about me?”

My heart was suddenly thumping, my mouth dry. I knew full well what I risked by being honest with her… the very real possibility of losing my precious niece. Making her fear me — or at least uncomfortable in my presence. And yet, and yet… I couldn’t lie to Maggie.

“Yes,” I said in a small voice. “I have thought about you… that way. M-many times.”

She stood silently, digesting this revelation. I was terrified, on the verge of tears. What had I just done?

And then, she took my hand in hers, a gentle smile on her lips. “Aunt Kat… would you like to kiss me?”

I doubt I will ever again experience a joy as absolute as what I felt at that moment. Not a word could I speak — I only nodded my head foolishly.

Maggie opened my jacket, then slipped inside with me, her slender arms winding around my back. Her face tilted up toward mine, her eyes closed. And we kissed.

But now I wasn’t much in the mood for that, not after the cop’s visit. Nearly getting caught with my Maggie naked in the car — as well as the other things I could have been nailed for, had he called in — had not set well with my stomach.

But Maggie looked up at me and smiled and her charm worked its magic. I looked in those eyes, wrapped my fingers tight around the door handle, jerked it down and heaved a sigh.

The world was always there. It was weighing on me and it had been for a long time. Maggie made the world go away, just the same way she made the cop go away. She did it with a smile and a touch and a sweet little sigh. I loved her and I felt safe with her. Imagine that, a woman who has held people at gunpoint and taken their money being protected by an innocent — well, innocent but wily — ten-year-old girl with beautiful brown eyes.

My God, why was I here? Why had I come back, knowing I would have to leave her again? And now, seeing what she had turned into, it would be even harder to leave her. And it would be hard to go back to Janice.

Janice was my mentor and partner in crime, my lover, but she was not my friend. She wasn’t much of a lover either, but that’s another story. The fact is that with Maggie near me, in my arms or by my side, I could not even think of Janice in the same light. I had left her abruptly to come here, left her while she was sleeping, just a short note on the motel nightstand telling her I would be back in a couple of days. It was sure to anger her, and she was not a good-tempered woman.

With Maggie leading me by the hand, we descended the hill to Miller’s Stream. I felt so dizzy, and not so sure-footed, while my little lover moved so gracefully on her bare feet. Oh, it really hit me, the host of memories that came flooding back as I sat down at the edge of the water. Maggie sat next to me and put her feet and legs in the water. She reached down and put her hands in and brought a splash of water up to her face. I did the same. It felt good.

“Take off your shoes, Kat.”

I did take off my shoes and my socks, and I rolled up my pants legs and dipped into the water. Oh, so cool it was! And on tired feet it felt better than wonderful. I held my Maggie’s hand and kicked my feet as she kicked hers. It was all good, all sweet, all innocent, and I forgot everything again, everything but her and myself.

She was more than beautiful at that moment, and as she reached down, lifted her nightgown and took it off there by the stream, I was in awe of her body. In the car, I had not really had the chance to gaze upon her in all of her naked splendor. I took her hands, both of them, and guided her to sit on my legs, facing me, straddling my knees. I grinned at my girl and looked her over.

Oh, who had created this work of beauty that sat so still and quiet before me? Surely something, some being with the eye of an artist, a renaissance painter, had produced this masterpiece. How could she have just appeared here by chance, by mere genetic code, by such cold scientific principles as we’re taught in school? No, I did not believe in the bible, but I knew that someone somewhere had worked a miracle in creating my young Maggie.

From the top of her head to her sweet face, along the curve of her neck, her smooth shoulders, the roundness of her upper chest, the summer golden glow covering her skin, golden all over, and her little buds poking out like little tiny cones, the nipples stiffening as I touch them, pinch them so gently, I lower my head and suckle at them, and her tummy so flat and perfect and brown and smooth and kissable, her thighs the same, firm and shapely like a woman’s thighs, the thighs of a well-fed farm girl, and between them that sweet little crack spread open, dark red lips protruding, the pink beyond revealing itself as I reach down and spread the lips and seek out the swollen bud of her clit, hiding from me under its fleshy hood, but I rush, forgetting the full legs, the calves so shapely and sexy and the pretty feet and edible little toes…

I took one leg and raised it so I could kiss one foot. I kissed it, then sucked at her toes as she watched me with a sweet smile. My hand was working on her all the while, rubbing her clit slowly and gently to start, only because I wanted to taste her, to make her come with my mouth for the first time. Yes, I wanted desperately to taste my Maggie’s sweet little sex, to make her grind against my face, to make her come under the teasing and exploring of my tongue.

I nibbled my way down her thighs, and then I beckoned her to move up, to sit with her pussy over my face as I lay back and used my tongue. She moved over my face eagerly, as curious to feel it as I was to taste her for the first time. She spread her legs over my head, spread them far apart, and the red and pink flower blossomed like a rose. I began licking the flower whose nectar tasted of a tangy sort of sweetness.

I felt my little niece react immediately. She seemed ready for any and all pleasures, so ready that I have to admit to being a bit timid. It is one thing to kiss and fondle an ten-year-old girl and be uncertain about her feelings, but to be under the spell of the same girl two years later, a girl excited beyond belief, it makes you doubt reality. I really did imagine for a moment that I was back in the car sleeping somewhere on the road, or maybe back in the motel, dreaming all of this.

“Oh, Kat…” the angel sang. “Oh, that feels so… so good.”

I could not speak for what I was doing, but if I could I would have told her that the pleasure belonged to her, it was there for the taking, that it was intended to be so. Once again, only a higher being could create something so pleasurable, but I will not digress beyond that. What she was feeling was wonderful and right; no one can tell me different. And as she approached orgasm, I was working at myself, slipping my hand down the front of my pants, tingling like crazy, feeling a little out of control.

“Oh… my… God!” she squealed. She was grinding on my mouth when it hit her. Her cries echoed there through the trees as she seemed to lose control, and I had to hold her to keep her from falling, hold her as I laid her gently on the hard ground, my head tightly pressed between her squeezing thighs. “Oh… oh… it feels so…” and again she squealed, as if another had begun before the first had gone. It was all I could do to wiggle my tongue against her clit with her legs gripping me like a vice. Her juices flowed sweet and tart and coated my face. My own loins were singing, craving release.

With an expression of total satisfaction, relaxed as she could be, my Maggie lay there on the ground. I lifted my head from between her thighs and moved up next to her, lying on my side, caressing her flushed golden skin.

“Kat, that felt so wonderful,” she said, her voice soft and breathless and sweet. “Never leave me.”

“Oh, my sweet girl,” I told her, feeling a lump in my throat, “I don’t want to leave you, but I can’t stay here.”

Maggie reached a hand out and stroked my cheek with her little fingers. She looked at me tenderly, her eyes soft and moist. She looked away.

“I understand,” she said. She rested there, still caressing my face, and then turned to look into my eyes again. She put her arms about my neck and pulled me close, kissing my lips, and then hugging tightly to her shoulder. I felt her lips touch my ear. And she whispered, “Take me with you.”

Take her with me? God, how I wanted to! But how could I? My thoughts were racing each other as I lay there holding my sweet Maggie, thoughts of her sitting in some lonely motel room with me, her whole life ahead of her yet stuck hiding out with me. They would come after me for taking her, and then we would really be on the run. And what about Janice? She was back there with most of the loot and there was no way she would go for taking a ten-year-old girl along for the ride.

Not for the first time, I felt a deep regret for the life I had. Well, I hadn’t so much chosen it as I had allowed it to choose me. But why couldn’t I have met someone nice, someone who wasn’t a thief? Janice hated the world and everybody in it, and she robbed people because they had it coming. For me, it was a game, but for her it was fuck or get fucked. She was a true dyke, stereotypical, the kind people made fun of, the kind who hated men but cut her hair and dressed like a man.

And as I lay there with my naked little lover, I actually thought of Janice and got disgusted. I had really gone astray. I had gone with Janice — let’s face it — because she was like a man. She was strong, a protector, and she had that romantic look of an outlaw. I was a weak-willed person, easy to persuade because I had no idea how to take care of myself, let alone anyone else.

“Maggie,” I said, “there is no way I can take you with me.”

“No?” the little girl sobbed. “Why not?”

“You don’t know anything about my life, angel. I’ve been places and I’ve done… things. You don’t want to come with me, really.”

“Yes, I do,” she said. “I don’t like living with Grandma and Grandpa. They don’t let me have any fun.”

“But you’re clothed and well-fed and you have Molly and a nice warm bed…”

“Everything I say or do is a sin, Kat!”

Oh, there it was, wasn’t it? Sin, the big S word. The good old Baptists, standing so tall and prim and proper! God, how I hated the way they indoctrinated the young. And if you rebelled, there came the rod.

“Do they spank you, Maggie?”

“Ye-es,” Maggie said, “they do.”

Oh God, the spankings. But they glorified it by saying it was the Lord’s way. They said it was not done with anger, it was not a beating. It was a ritual, the telling of what you’ve done wrong, sitting down, taking you across their lap, and using a belt or a switch so that the bare hand never makes contact with your flesh. They say it is love, the Lord’s way. Spare the rod, spoil the child. It is not to break your spirit, but your will to do wrong.

So, dear Mother and Father, where did my spirit go if you did not take it from me?

“Oh, Kat, please…” she said tearfully. “I can touch you, too. I can make you feel good like you make me feel good.”

The thought of that made me tingle. At the same time, I felt so unclean, so dirty in her presence. Why couldn’t I just shut off my thoughts for a second and feel?

“I want to do it now,” she said.

“What?” I asked.

“Touch you…”

“You do?”

Within seconds my Maggie was straddling me again, but this time she was unbuttoning my shirt. A smile appeared on her face, a renewed excitement stopping the tears. I reached up and wiped those tears away and gave myself to her for the moment. My thought was, what if this is the only chance we ever get for such a thing, for her to pleasure me and for me to feel pleasure from her?

My shirt was open and I sat up, allowing her to slip it off. I unhooked my bra and removed it for her, as I thought her little fingers would not be up to such a task. She looked at my breast as I lay back down. She hesitated, then reached out and stroked them with her fingers. She focused on the nipples, caressing them to hardness, grinning at the result.

“Pinch them, sweetie,” I said. “I like that.”

“Really?” And she pinched them really hard, but that was just how I liked it! I gasped and closed my eyes, feeling the shock waves go through my body. When I opened them again, all I could see was Maggie’s smile, and the look in her eyes that told me she was going to enjoy this.

“Can I suck on them?”

“Don’t even ask, baby,” I said softly. “Do as you please. I am sure that anything you do is going to feel good.”

My Maggie lay against me and I stroked her hair as she closed her mouth about one nipple. To my surprise, she reached up and pinched the other so as not to neglect it while she sucked the one. Oh, it was so heavenly to be suckled by her, and knowing I liked the pinching, she even bit, but she used some restraint there. She switched from one nipple to the other and it felt so good that it caused a tingling in my loins. I began moving my legs below, squeezing them together. My Maggie lifted her face from my breast and grinned.

“Now I get to touch your cunt.”

“Where,” I gasped, “where did you ever hear such a word?”

“A boy said it on the playground.”

Oh, well, on every playground there’s a kid who knows it all, isn’t there? I undid my pants and Maggie lay beside me. I took her hand and slipped it down my panties. I spread my lips, then I pressed her fingers to my clit.

“Rub just like that,” I whispered.

The excitement of her touching me easily made up for any awkwardness in her probing… and her mouth was right back at my closest nipple, biting and sucking at it as she worked her fingers at my clit. I tried my best to clear my mind of everything, and my Maggie helped in that way, for after a moment I could think of nothing but what she was doing to me.

If I did think of anything, it was about the first time another girl had touched me in such a way. Like Maggie, and like me at the time, she had been young and inexperienced, but oh how her touch had thrilled me!

Maggie was so patient about her fondling, I was surprised. And it was nice. I was used to having to rush myself, sometimes even faking it, but here there was no rush. When I finally asked Maggie to rub faster and more firmly, it was my clit begging for it. I was on the edge, and I needed a push.

The world was spinning and I closed my eyes and felt the warmth and the tingle, the fire rising inside. I held my breath, tensing time after time, reaching for it, like a piece of fruit dangling just beyond my grasp, and then, suddenly, it was there and I let the pleasure take me.

“Oh!” I cried, and I felt Maggie press herself to me as I came. It was a wonderful orgasm, the kind that comes from waiting, from allowing the fire to slowly build. It lasted a long time, and I know that it excited Maggie, for I could feel her grinding against my thigh. “Oh, my love,” I said, “that was wonderful.”

“Mmmm,” she smiled softly at me as I looked at her. “That was fun. You want me to lick you now?”

“Oh, baby,” I said, dreading the words, “I should be getting you back to the house.”

By saying that I instantly turned my niece’s smile to a frown. Was there any way I could leave this time without breaking her little heart? God, I hated the world, for all its taboos, its righteousness, its hypocrisy.

I have to say that my little niece did her best not to cry as we climbed back up to the car and climbed in, she put her panties on and I pulled the car out, heading back to the road that led back to my sister’s house. She was quiet and I was quiet, and she snuggled against me as I drove.

When I turned onto the street I’d grown up on, Molly and I looked sadly at one another.

“I love you, Aunt Kat,” she said, gazing forlornly at me. “I wish we could run away and get married.”

“I wish we could too, babe,” I murmured, holding back tears of my own.

I knew I would have to speak to my mother. I didn’t want Maggie to get into trouble. I was the outcast daughter, the bad girl, and it wasn’t going to hurt me to get a helping of whatever my mother dished out. Believe me, she had dished it all out before. The only fear I had was of my father. What if he had discovered Maggie’s absence and stayed home from the field this morning?

When we pulled up to the house, Molly came out barking excitedly and Maggie and I got out, looking sadly at one another. The backdoor opened and there stood my mother, looking at me like she was seeing a ghost.

“Hello, Mother,” I said. “I wanted to see Maggie, so I kind of snuck in–”

“How dare you!” she said. “Maggie, get in the house and go up to your room.”

Maggie rushed to me and stood by my side, hugging me.

“Grandma,” she said. “Please don’t be mad at Aunt Kat. She was just scared to see you.”

“I bet she was!” my mother said. “Get in the house, Maggie!”

“No!” Maggie yelled. “I won’t!”

I sensed a spanking coming now, whatever happened. I wanted so much to say something, but I began to feel dizzy again. I was tired and hungry and thirsty. I needed to sit down, but it was too late for that.

The next thing I knew I was coming to with my head in my mother’s lap. She had pressed a cold washcloth to my brow. The look of concern in her eyes was not something she could conceal. There were even tears. Maggie stood by with a glass of water, and my mother helped me to sit up and have a drink. My mother backed away from me and maintained her distance. She wiped her eyes with her apron.

“Are you hungry?” my mother asked with little emotion.

“Yes,” I said.

“Well, I can cook you some bacon and eggs, then you’ve got to be on your way. I can’t let you go without giving you a good meal, Katherine, but that’s all I can do.”

“I know.”

“You look like you need some rest. There’s a motel just up the road near Lancer’s. It’s where the sinners go to bed down together come the weekend. You should feel right at ho-” and she stopped there. “You should be able to rest there, if you have the money for a room.”

“I do.”

“All right then. Wait here. I will bring your breakfast out in a few. Maggie, say your goodbyes and get back in the house. You’re not even dressed proper.”

My heart sank. My mother would not even allow me inside. And Maggie stood there, tears welling in her eyes. This was all happening much too fast. I didn’t have time to think. God, I wanted to take Maggie, jump in the car and run away with her, take her far away from here. But I lacked the strength, the spirit.

Maggie stepped over to me, she put her arms about my neck and hugged me tightly. I felt as if she were being stripped away from me, and she must have felt the same, only ten times worse. She left my shoulder warm and wet with her tears and then ran. The door slammed. I looked up. Molly came to me. I pet and hugged the old girl as I cried. Molly whimpered and licked my face, as if she knew.

Not much to say about the remainder of my visit. I ate the food. It was how I remembered, delicious. And my mother even cracked a smile, almost, as I thanked her. I got up, walked to my car, turned and looked up. I saw Maggie looking down from her open window. I looked at my mother. She hesitated at the door, looking my way.

“Mother?”

“Yes,” she said.

“I’ll be at the motel you told me about, if you want to talk. But I’ll be probably be leaving after I have a good sleep, so I–”

“We have nothing to talk about, Katherine,” she said, her face a stone wall. “But I’ll pray for you.” Then she turned away.

I got in the car. I started it up. I pulled out and drove away. I found the motel. I got a room. I went to this liquor store across the way and bought a bottle. I made myself as comfortable as I could, watched the crap on the TV, and passed out.

I slept for quite a while. I woke up a couple of times, but just drank some more and passed out again. It was only when I woke up early in the morning, long past when my mother would have had a chance to come talk with me, that I tossed what was left of the bottle, took a shower and headed back out onto the road.

I felt numb, driving away from everything I knew again, and the only person I loved with all my heart and soul. I searched the radio for anything, but all I got was fuzz. I turned it off. I stuck my arm out the window. As the light entered the sky and I breathed in the morning air, I smelled a familiar smell. If I hadn’t been so hollow, so empty, I might have enjoyed it — and I knew what it was, it was what remained of Maggie, her presence in the car, the scent she had left there.

The End